


going to the chapel

by larry_hystereks



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Choking, Dirty Talk, Escort Service, F/M, Light Bondage, Sexual Content, Weddings, light banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larry_hystereks/pseuds/larry_hystereks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or in which Skye needs a date for her ex-boyfriend's sister's wedding and ends up calling an escort service.</p>
            </blockquote>





	going to the chapel

**Author's Note:**

> "ok ok but listen: skyeward escort au"
> 
> when tweets turn into fic

It’s Jemma’s idea.

Skye was just going to go on Craigslist and pray that “need guy (hot) to make ex jealous at wedding” didn’t attract too many weirdos.

When she mentions this to Jemma the poor girl looks like she’s about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Absolutely not!” She says. “I’m not burying you just because you want to make Miles jealous, it’s not happening.”

She pulls out her cell phone and taps away at the screen.

“Here,” she says. “Call this number.”

"No, who is it?" 

"Skye just do it." 

"Who is it?" 

"Trust me."

Jemma reads out the digits and Skye begrudgingly taps the numbers into her phone.

It rings twice before a woman picks up.

“Thank you for calling First Class Escort's, where happy endings are made. What services are you seeking?”

Skye’s eyes go wide. “Jemma are you fu-”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we have any ‘Jemma’s’ available for services this month. I can check if you want?”

Jemma’s holding back laughter, “Just ask for a hot one.”

Skye rolls her eyes. What's she got to lose? “Listen, I’m looking for a date to a wedding.”

“What day?” The woman asks back. Skye hears her typing in the background.

“This Saturday, I’ll need him for the ceremony and the reception. So from 2pm until like 11 or 12.”

The woman hums. “Saturday’s fairly soon, we usually try and book a few weeks in advance. Let me see who’s available.”

“He needs to be hot. Like abnormally hot.” Skye adds. “I’m trying to make my ex jealous.”

The woman chuckles slightly. “Ahh.” She says. There’s silence as she clicks. “Looks like Grant’s had a cancellation for this weekend and now he’s free.”

“What’s he look like?” Skye asks.

“Dark haired, very nice cheek bones. He’s one of our most requested males.”

Skye hums.

“Now will that be cash or credit?”

\-------

He has to meet her at a church downtown.

Or at least that’s what Melinda told him on Monday.

He had been pissed when his Saturday cancelled. That was a big pay day for him, a regular who always tipped extra. He hated when his regular’s cancelled. When people start cancelling on him it can mean the difference between food on the table, and well, it just not being there anymore. 

But not even two hours later he was booked again.

He tries not too feel too smug about that. 

It sucked that it was all day; he preferred nights. As did his regular clients. 

He doesn’t know who he’s looking for. All Melinda said was she’s a female with dark hair who’s paying cash. And her name is ‘Skye’, which he’s betting on being fake, because seriously who names their child 'Skye'.

He figured he’d just look for the girl standing out front of the church with no date and a lost puppy dog look in her eyes.

The new timers weren’t too hard to spot out.

He buttons his suit coat as he walks toward the church, scanning the crowd. There’s not too many people outside the building, just a few talking, the majority must’ve gone in already.

His eyes land on a girl in a bright pink dress, the neckline swooping down dangerously low considering she’s about to be in the presence of god.

Her hair is dark, the heels are high, and her eyes are drifting around the people walking near the church, clearly searching.

The only other woman standing outside the building alone is probably 50. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to spend his time with an older partner. Hell, most of his clientele are richy rich senators or government officials, almost always reaching 50 years of age or higher. But he hopes his ‘date’ is the one in the pink; he'd like to get a hand on those delicious looking legs.

The girl in the pink dress catches his eyes with hers. She raises a questioning eyebrow and he nods. The girl lets out a small breath, as if she was worried no one would show up.

“Skye?” He asks as he walks up to her. Damn she’s short, even in the heels.

“The one and only.” She says. “Grant?”

He nods his head. “You ready to go inside?”

She sighs. “Have you been briefed?”

“Briefed?” He repeats in confusion. 

"By the woman on the phone? The one I called to make an appointment with?" 

Grant sighs. "I got a short description of what you looked like and your name. That was it." 

Skye frowns. “Okay so it’s my ex-boyfriend’s sister’s wedding. My ex who’s brought along his Italian model date for tonight.”

“So you need me to what?”

Skye shrugs. “I dunno, look attractive, which, I mean, you’ve got covered. Maybe laugh at my jokes, look like you’re into me and I’m not paying you to be here? That kind of thing.”

"And afterword?" 

"Afterword what?" 

Grant fights the urge to groan. "You called an escort service, for me, an escort. I'm assuming you made arrangements for tonight for us?" 

Skye snorts. "Wait you're kidding right?" She says. "I'm paying you to be my date." 

"Yeah, I get that sweetheart but where the hell are we staying tonight?" 

"Um, you can stay at your house and I'll stay at the hotel I booked?" 

"So no sex?" 

"No sex." 

Grant sighs in aggravation. "You called for an escort." 

"I did." Skye just stands there blinking at him. 

"You know what, never mind." He sighs, it's not worth it right now. "Ready to go inside?"  

He sticks out his arm and she wraps a hand around it tentatively as he leads her inside the building.

\-------

The ceremony goes off without a hitch and in Skye's opinion the reception is pretty laid back considering the bride used to be an all champion beer pong player no less than a year ago. Love changes a person, she guesses.

The bride and groom are dancing to a soft alternative rock song while a few of other older couples dance along with them with their respective partners.

The venue is gorgeous, outdoors under a large vanilla colored canopy, twinkling lights sparkling around them. She expected no less from Miles' parents, the rich fucks.

She looks over and sees Miles laughing at something his girlfriend said, squeezing her knee.

Skye clenches her jaw.

"What a twat." She says. 

Grant takes a sip of his wine, red, and raises an eyebrow. 

"My ex," she explains. "the one canoodling over in the corner with that tramp." 

"Canoodling? Really?" 

Skye rolls her eyes. "Oh, shut up." 

Grant just takes another sip of his drink.

“Will you dance with me?” She says to Grant.

Grant sets down his wine. “Not really what I’m being payed for.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Skye, this is an escort service, not eHarmony.”

“No shit asshole, I was looking for a hot guy to make my ex jealous not a frickin life partner.” Skye says.

“Not really how this works sweetheart.”

“I payed you, so you’re supposed to do what I want, like dance isn’t that--.”

“---you payed me? When did you pay me?”

“Um, did you see that cake, it was like 8 grand. And you had _two_ slices. Consider yourself payed.”

Grant looks at her flatly. “You’re kidding.”

“Of course, I’m kidding. But I’m not kidding if you don’t dance with me.”

“You’re insane.”

“I called an escort service for a date, wasn’t that implied?”

“Fine.” he says. He stands up and buttons his suit, extending his hand for her to take. Damn is he tall. “You better not step on my toes.”

“Cute.”

She takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. She can practically feel Miles’ eyes following her.

“So how'd he become the ex?” Grant asks. One of his hands finds her waist, his thumb pressing into her hip, while the other hand holds hers as they sway to the music.

“I mean we just kind of-”

“-- wait let me guess.” Grant spins her, the motion taking her slightly by surprise, and then he brings her back. “You guys fall in love, in what college? And then you graduate and things are fine at first until the conversation starts to die out, the sex starts to become routine, and everything else just begins to fall apart around you."

Skye rolls her eyes. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you have bad taste in men? Yes?”

“Dick.”

“Bitch.”

Skye smiles slightly and so does Grant. His thumb rubs lightly against her hip. 

“So Grant,” Skye starts. “how did this all start?”

“How did what start?”

“The escort service. How does a guy with cheekbones like yours end up sleeping with people for money?”

Grant licks his bottom lip. “Easy, the money.” He pushes her out with his hand, steps forward, and she follows suit. She feels a little proud when she notices Grant's small look of surprise. As if he was expecting her not to be able to follow a simple two-step. She doesn't comment on it though.

“Predictable.” Skye says in response to his answer, Grant rolls his eyes. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” He presses his hand harder against her hip as they sway. “The sex or the money?”

Skye shrugs. “Both.”

“Pays the bills." He shrugs. "The sex is, well, it’s just sex.”

“Isn’t that lonely?”

Grant stops a moment, so quickly Skye barely catches it, because he picks back up where he left off as if nothing happened.

“Sometimes. Not always.” He admits.

“Can’t be easy to keep a girlfriend.”

“Never had one.”

This time it’s Skye that falters in her steps.

“No fucking way.”

Grant just shrugs.

“That’s unbelievable. You’re gorgeous.”

Grant smirks. “I know. Doesn’t mean I’ve ever found anyone that I deemed worthy enough to spend my time with.”

“What about me?” Skye tries. She’s feeling brave. And plus, if he turns her down, it’s not like she ever has to see him again.

“Now you,” Grant starts, his voice low. “I know exactly what I’d do to.”

“Do to?” Skye echos. His hand snakes further behind her, resting on the back of her hip right above her ass.

He hums. “You’d want it vanilla, to start out at least. Kissing, maybe a hickie or two,” he comments. “you’d mark up beautifully.” He smirks and licks his lips. “Maybe I’d just eat you out for a while, you seem like the kind of girl that doesn’t get that enough.”

Skye’s cheeks redden. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Miles guy, who I’m assuming was your last boyfriend, and guessing a long relationship too?” Grant asks.

Skye nods slightly.

“Well, Miles looks like the kind of guy that likes receiving more than he likes giving. And when you finally convince him to give it to you, maybe after a few drinks, maybe after a blowjob, he tries to spell the fucking ABC’s on your clit and you have to pretend to enjoy it, maybe fantasize about someone else to get you off, or maybe you just fake it, just to end his miserable attempts at trying to please you.”

Skye swallows hard but remains silent. She barely notices how close Grant has gotten to her, so close that if she just reached out her tongue she could take a taste of his cologne on his neck.

“So what would you do to me?” Skye asks. “That he wouldn’t?”

Her voice is so low she doesn’t even recognize it.

Grant’s smirk is nothing less than predatory. “I’d strip you first. Lay you down on the bed and then wrap your legs around my neck.”

Skye lets out a small breath.

Grant closes the already small distance between them and puts his mouth against her ear, the words leaving her with a tingling sensation that ignites inside her body.

“I’d start out slow, let you enjoy it after being neglected for all that time you were with that sad sap. And then I’d start to fuck you, fuck you with my mouth. Maybe I’d finger you then, curling and curling and building you up and then bringing you back down. Teasing you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? If I teased you?”

Skye swallows. “Yeah, I would.”

She doesn’t sound like herself, she doesn’t know who this person is that’s taken over her persona.

She’s not the type of person that encourages dirty talk from an escort at her ex-boyfriend's sister's wedding.

But she can’t bring herself to care.

“How would you fuck me?”

“Oh, not yet sweetheart.” Grant pulls away and twirls her out, spinning her and letting her dress swirl around her knees. He pulls her back towards him, their hips less than centimeters apart.

“What would you do instead?” Skye asks. She feels like she’s poking the devil with a stick. She needs more. She hasn't been this turned on in god knows how long.

“I’d take this tie around my neck and wrap it around those pretty little wrists of yours. Maybe I’d tie you to the bed frame too, make sure you can’t go anywhere.”

“And?”

Grant chuckles. “Eager aren’t we?” He teases. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel and I just show you.”

Skye raises an eyebrow. “How much?”

“What?”

“How much?” She asks again. “For the night?”

Grant presses his lips before a small smile appears on his face. “No charge, consider it a service, for all the bad sex you had to go through.”

“You think you’re that good?”

“There’s a reason I’m the most requested, Skye.”

Her heart pounds in her chest. She’s going to do it. She’s going to let herself be fucked, no claimed, by Grant.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind.”

She starts to pull away but is stopped by Grant's firm grasp on her. A question starts to build on her lips but it dies out when their covered with Grant's. 

She sighs into his mouth, his tonguing flicking gently across hers. He tastes like red wine and wedding cake. Bitter and sweet all at once. 

To her disappointment, he pulls away after that one kiss. 

He smirks as he leads her off the dance floor and back to their table. She grabs her small handbag and takes a sip of her long forgotten pinot that’s gone distastefully warm. She needs it though, a bit of liquid courage.

Grant presses his hand to the small of her back, leading her away from the table, out of the canopy, and towards the hotel which is right down the stone pathway.

She prides herself on that fact that she didn’t think to see Miles' reaction of this. Not even once.

\-------

The thing about Grant is, he loves to fuck.

He loves to claim and mark what’s his and loves the pleasure that comes from it. But more than that, he loves the pleasure he can give to his partner. He loves being in control. Being able to make them come, or _not_ , with the simple flick of his tongue, the curl of his fingers, the stroke of his dick.

He loves the power.

He loves the way his partner looks with their wrists bound, with their chest slick with sweat, and their legs open, inviting, wanting.

He aches for it.

And Skye, Skye is perfect.

Skye is everything Grant needs in a partner.

She wants him to tie her up, “tighter” she says, to which he obliges happily.

She’s loud when he eats her out, louder when she comes from just his mouth.

She whines when he fingers her, and moans when he lets her taste herself.

She begs for him to fuck her, and whispers “choke me” as soon as his dick slides into her for the first time.

He wraps his hand around her tiny neck as he fucks into her, using the other to lift one of her legs higher.

“Harder.” She moans.

He’s not sure if she means the choking or the fucking, so he just does both.

When she comes for the second time it’s nearly silent; her back arches off the bed, pushing him in deeper, her mouth falling open into that perfect ‘O’.

He’s not far behind her, and the image of her orgasm is forever ingrained into his memory, a sight he doubts he’ll ever forgot.

He unties her wrists gently from the headboard and gets up to clean himself off, disposing of the condom in the trash.

When he gets back to the bed Skye’s sprawled out like a cat, to his pleasure still naked, with her breaths coming out evener than when he left her.

“You were right.” She says.

Grant lays down on the bed next to her. Stroking her bare hip. “About what?”

“You are good.”

He chuckles at that, swirling a small circle on her hip with his index finger. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

She smirks and Grant stares at the littering of bruises covering her neck and chest from the hickies he gave her. 

He can see the indent of his fingers on her throat too. He reaches up his hand to stroke the skin, feeling the marks he left on her. 

"I'm going to be wearing scarves for a week." She jokes.

He rolls his eyes, kissing one of the bruises on her neck lightly. She sighs. 

He picks up one of her wrists, seeing the discoloration already pigmenting her skin.  

"I've never done that before." Skye admits. 

"Done what? Bondage?" 

She nods. 

"And the choking?" 

She bites her bottom lip. "No, that's something I've always been into. My first boyfriend liked it a lot too." 

Grant stays silent, bringing her wrist to his lips, kissing her pulse point. 

"You know," she starts. "it really sucks that you're an escort." 

"How so?" 

"Because we're never going to do this again, are we?" 

He presses his lips together and sets her wrist back down, his hand sprawling across her stomach instead. 

"Skye..." he starts. 

She smiles softly. "No, no it's okay. No other real way for this to end." 

"I'm sorry." 

She snorts. "Don't be, Grant, never be sorry for what you did to me tonight." 

He rolls his eyes, stroking her skin. God, her body is so soft. Perfect, really. 

"I should go." He says. 

She reaches up a hand and tangles it in his hair, drawing him down so he can fit her lips against hers. 

"Fine." She mumbles against him. She tugs at his bottom lip with her teeth. "Go." 

She kisses him again, her hand sliding from his hair to his cheek. 

"Maybe just one more round." Grant suggests. 

She raises an eyebrow, smirk in place. 

He leans back in and kisses her, harder than she was before. 

One more round, he tells himself. 

Even though he knows it's a lie. 

**Author's Note:**

> so skyeward has taken over my life. 
> 
> please be kind and leave suggestions for au fics in the comments or tweet me at @hystereks ily


End file.
